Easy As Flying
by digthewriter
Summary: Harry got Draco pregnant and now he needs to do the right thing. It really wasn't that complicated. Loving Draco was as easy as flying.


**Title: Easy As Flying**

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**Warning: Mpreg / Bottom Draco / EWE**

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Harry checked the Marauder's Map and saw that almost everyone was sitting outside the castle. Except there was a dot roaming around near the Slytherin Dungeons. The dungeons probably weren't affected by the blasts from the attacks of the Death Eaters. The dot, Draco Malfoy, was hiding there.

His parents had called him in front of Voldemort, and Harry was sure he'd seen them walk away. Then why was Malfoy in the dungeons? What was he doing there?

"I'll be right back," Harry said turning to Ron and Hermione. "Take care of them," he added, gesturing towards the crowd, "I should be back—"

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked, and Harry saw Ginny running towards them.

"I don't— I just have to do something," Harry said and quickly walked away from his friends. He waved at Ginny who stopped in her tracks and looked at Harry, confused.

This probably wasn't the right time anyway for him to tell her that he didn't want to get back together. He needed to see what Malfoy was doing.

He walked through the corridors hurriedly, noticing the holes in the walls and the roof that looked like it was going to give at any moment. Then he ran. He checked the map again and the dot had settled. Surely in his dorm room, Harry was certain.

Harry entered the Slytherin Common Room; it was almost entirely intact and deserted.

When Harry looked at the map, he was very close to the dot; only a door separated him from Malfoy. What was Malfoy doing in his room?

Harry swung the door open and saw Malfoy sitting on a bed, his knees to his chest, and his arms wrapped around them. He startled at the sight of Harry but didn't move otherwise.

"I thought— I thought you left," Harry said. What else could he say?

"I told my parents to leave me. I didn't want to be a coward anymore," Malfoy responded, then returned his gaze to his feet. "Maybe the castle will collapse and destroy me with it."

"Is that what you really want?"

"Why do you care what I want, Potter?"

"You saved my life," Harry said simply. "Your mum saved my life, too."

Malfoy looked up at him again, bemusedly.

"She told Voldemort I was dead, and I wasn't. She bought me time for my—" Harry chuckled. "My plan— which I didn't have. Sort of just winged it, really."

Malfoy looked at him with near disbelief. He shook his head before speaking. "Only you, Potter. Only you."

"She wanted to know if you were safe. She saved me, when I told her you were...alive."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow but didn't answer. Harry walked into the room and closed the door behind him. Not sure why, it wasn't like anyone was going to come looking for them. Most people probably didn't even know that the Slytherin dungeons were still intact.

"You saved me, and your mother saved me," Harry repeated. "I need to make sure that you don't collapse under the castle." He sat on the bed across from Malfoy. "It's the least I can do for her."

"That's rich given you almost killed me this time last year."

"That was a—" Harry paused, and lowered his voice. He'd almost screamed at Malfoy, and Malfoy looked caught off guard. "That was a mistake, and I cannot tell you _how much_ I regret it. I wish— I wish I knew the plan. I wish I knew what Voldemort wanted from you; what Dumbledore wanted from Snape. There's just been so much death..."

"And now it's over."

"And now it's over," Harry echoed.

"I'm surprised you're here. I thought you might be out there, being the big hero, kissing your girlfriend."

Harry laughed softly. That's what he should have been doing, except, he was there. With Malfoy.

"I could kiss you."

"You want—" Malfoy stammered. "You want to kiss me?"

"Well, I am the big hero, and I deserve a big kiss," Harry said nodding, thinking it through. He wasn't really sure why he offered to kiss Malfoy. "All I know is that I saw Ginny, and I saw you on my map, and now I'm here."

"What makes you think I'd kiss you?"

"I didn't even think about that," Harry answered honestly. "You're the one who brought it up."

"That's your problem isn't it? You don't think."

Harry kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed, approaching Malfoy on his knees. "It works for me once in a while."

"And sometimes you almost kill—"

"Malfoy, you're sort of ruining my big hero moment by bringing that up over and over again."

Malfoy scowled briefly before he spoke again. "Sorry my nearly dying is such an inconvenience for you." His gaze dropped on Harry's hands, which were now resting on Malfoy's knees.

Harry laughed. This time with fervour. "Why _did_ you save me then?"

"What?" Malfoy snapped.

"You could have turned me in. Acknowledged that it was me at the Manor, but you didn't. Why? If you hate me so much for my mistake of almost kill— I really am very, very sorry about that. I'll make it up to you for the rest of my life if I have to."

Malfoy didn't say anything and his gaze didn't leave Harry's hands.

"So why did you save me? Why can't I kiss you?"

"I saved you because—" Malfoy released a heavy sigh. "Because he _couldn't_ win. I realised my father was wrong. They were all wrong. They were evil, and they were harming innocent people for no reason. There's a difference between having a bit of fun and actual torture— Actual torture—"

Harry placed his finger on Malfoy's chin and their eyes met. He smiled for a second before he leaned in to kiss Malfoy.

Malfoy hesitated. "Only kiss me, if you want to kiss _me_."

"I _want _to kiss you."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow again but didn't stop Harry. He spread his legs to let Harry lean in. A moment later, Harry's lips were on Malfoy's and Malfoy was kissing him back. Malfoy was kissing him back!

Feeling bold, Harry grabbed the back of Malfoy's neck and pulled him in deeper, sucking on Malfoy's lower lip and then gently biting it. Malfoy released a soft moan, and Harry felt Malfoy's leg wrapping around him, pulling _him_ in. Gods, this was so much different than Harry had ever felt. He wanted it. He was so drawn to Malfoy, and in that moment he realised, how much.

"Fuck," Harry said, when he finally freed Malfoy from his grip. Malfoy's leg was still wrapped around him. "That was better than I thought possible."

Malfoy smiled smugly. Harry's hands returned to Malfoy's knees, and he watched as Harry lowered them to Malfoy's thighs, almost massaging them.

"What are you doing, Potter?"

Harry shrugged and bit his lower lip, but didn't stop his hands. They slowly moved lower and lower, until they reached Malfoy's cock. Harry rubbed it with his palm. Malfoy was hard. Harry was too.

Malfoy breathed heavily and closed his eyes. His head fell back and his hands grabbed the bed sheets. "Potter," he whispered and Harry continued rubbing his hand over Malfoy's trousers.

Harry had no idea what he was doing, but he knew he wanted _this_. Merlin he wanted this more than he'd ever wanted to kiss Ginny or Cho. He wanted to take off his trousers and rub his erection against Malfoy's. When did this happen? How did Harry not realise that he was— was he? He was gay? Was Malfoy gay, too?

Before Harry had time to think anything else, Malfoy grabbed his wrist and pushed his hand away. He started to unbutton his trousers and Harry watched, his eyes wide with lust. Malfoy looked at him unsure.

"Don't stop," Harry said, urging him to unzip his trousers, and Harry did the same with his jeans.

"What do you want to do?" Malfoy asked, as he pushed his trousers and pants down to his knees, revealing his cock. He licked his lips when his gaze fell on Harry's hard prick. "_Fu_—" he whispered.

"I don't know," Harry said. "Anything. Everything." His hands pulled down Malfoy's trousers all the way; he grabbed Malfoy's prick and started stroking it. It was hot and Harry was trying to be gentle. He'd never touched another bloke's cock before, and he didn't know how intense it could be.

Malfoy took off his shirt. "Harder," he said before he kissed Harry again.

He took off Harry's shirt next, and as he pulled Harry closer, Harry's cock rubbed against Malfoy and his hand and he moaned. It felt fucking brilliant.

"I don't have any lube," Malfoy said, grabbing Harry's hips as he watched Harry rub their erections together.

Harry's eyes widened at Malfoy's comment. He wanted Harry. He wanted Harry to _fuck_ him. Harry thought he could come just from that lustful look Malfoy gave him. An hour before, Harry was fighting a Dark Lord that was trying to destroy him. An hour before _that_, he _had_ killed him. Now, he was going to shag Draco Malfoy.

For a brief moment, Harry wondered if he really was dead or if all of this was some sort of a strange dream.

"Potter!" Malfoy screamed, _very realistically_, as he came all over Harry's hand.

"Fuck, Malfoy..."

"Need you," Malfoy said, kissing Harry and guiding his hand down towards his entrance.

"But..."

"Wait," Malfoy said and his head snapped to the right. There was a plant on the table beside the other bed in the room. "We can use that...give me your wand."

"Your wand," Harry whispered and Malfoy glared at him for a brief moment before summoning the plant. "What are you going to do?" Harry asked.

"It's a Miermittel—"

"What's a Miermittel?"

"It's a plant," Malfoy said, dryly. "But it can be used..." He paused and grabbed the wand from Harry's hand. The green leaves turned into a liquid mush. "Here, we can use this."

"You're a genius."

"Yeah, I know," Malfoy said, and poured the liquid into Harry's hand. "Fuck me."

"Are you sure?"

"Potter!"

"Right!" Harry hurried as he took a bit of the liquid and dipped two fingers in it. He guided his fingers back to Malfoy's entrance and gently pushed in.

Malfoy moaned and slammed his head against the pillow. "More."

Harry was worried that he was hurting Malfoy, but Malfoy kept asking for more. He couldn't tell if Malfoy's moaning was in pleasure or pain. Harry removed his fingers and dipped them in the solution on his other hand. One by one, he had four fingers coming in and out of Malfoy's entrance. It was so tight and hot, and Harry had _never_ felt anything like it. He may have almost died as a virgin, but he wasn't going to stay a virgin for long.

"Now," Malfoy said, and Harry nodded even though Malfoy still had his eyes closed.

Harry took his time, enjoying the look of pleasure on Malfoy's face as he rubbed the rest of the solution on his prick. He was going to fuck Malfoy.

He had killed Voldemort, and now he was going to fuck Draco Malfoy.

"Is this real?" Harry asked, pushing into Malfoy. Malfoy's hole clenched around Harry's cock and he inadvertently moaned immediately after his question. He grabbed Malfoys legs and wrapped them around his waist. As Malfoy lifted his hips, Harry thrust in again.

"It's real," Malfoy answered. He'd opened his eyes and was watching Harry as Harry was pulling in and out of him. "You're really fucking me."

"You're really fuckable," Harry said, and smiled as he pulled out and pushed in one more time. With each movement, Harry became more and more daring. His thrusts were harsher, but Malfoy didn't seem to mind. He welcomed them.

"You feel so good, Draco," Harry said. Malfoy's name slipped out of his tongue so smoothly, it was as though it was just a normal thing. Like what they were doing was normal. So routine.

"More, Potter. Do more," Malfoy almost begged, and Harry held his hips tightly and his thrusts picked up speed. He no longer cared about hurting Malfoy; he could tell that he wasn't going to. He fucked Malfoy with every ounce of energy he had.

"Yes. Yes. Yes." Malfoy was chanting and encouraging Harry. He was so close. Fuck he could fuck Malfoy like that forever.

Nothing else mattered. In that moment, it didn't matter who he was, who Malfoy was. It didn't matter that Voldemort was destroyed, or that there were still Death Eaters out there, running loose.

All that mattered was Harry and Malfoy.

Then Harry was coming. "Gods, Malfoy. You're so fucking beautiful!" Harry uttered as he spilled inside Malfoy and then collapsed on top of him. "That was fucking beautiful."

Malfoy whimpered as Harry pulled out of him and crashed on the bed next to him. He grabbed his wand from his side and spelled himself and Malfoy clean. He laughed in the process of it.

"What is it?" Malfoy asked, almost defensively.

"This is the wand that killed Voldemort. Now it's the wand that's cleaning—us."

Malfoy laughed alongside with him. "I can see it now in tomorrow's _Prophet_: The wand that cleaned the remnants of a torrid affair between a Death Eater and the Saviour of the Wizarding World."

"Here," Harry said, handing Malfoy the wand.

"What?"

"It's your wand. You should have it back."

"I don't— I don't want it back."

"Take it," Harry insisted. 'I destroyed the other one."

"What other one?"

"The Elder Wand. The one that Volde— It's a long story." Harry held the wand out to him again. "If anyone asks what I was doing here, we can say that I came to return your wand to you."

"We should get dressed. I suppose the castle isn't really going to collapse, and if it does, I don't want to be blamed for you dying because of it."

"How many times can I really die today?" Harry asked, trying to joke, since he saw Malfoy become so serious all of a sudden.

Malfoy didn't say anything and grabbed his trousers and his shirt. He threw Harry's clothes towards him and they dressed in silence.

"I'll protect you, Draco," Harry said, after the silence between them was becoming daunting.

"What?" Malfoy looked up and caught Harry's gaze.

"You saved me. I'll make sure everyone knows that. I won't let anything happen to you or your family."

Malfoy nodded and returned to dressing. "I mean it," Harry said. "I want us to be—"

"You want us to be what, Potter?"

"I don't know. I don't know what happened. But, I know that I won't just walk away from this. I won't walk away from you."

"Maybe you should," Malfoy said, and headed towards the door.

Harry chased after him and grabbed Malfoy by his arm refusing to let go. Malfoy glared at him again but didn't pull his arm away. He allowed Harry to drag him out of the dungeons, up the stairs, and out to the castle grounds.

Harry didn't know what was going to happen once he was back in the public eye. He wasn't sure how everyone would react. What people would say when they saw them? He just knew that he needed Draco by his side. He needed that.

As soon as the crowd of people saw Harry, it was almost as though they didn't see Draco next to him. Everyone rushed towards Harry to make sure he was okay, to hug him, kiss him. Harry lost his grip on Draco, and Draco slipped away, getting lost in the crowd.

"Draco," Harry called out, but he was nowhere to be seen. Harry's wand was also missing. Draco must have taken it with him.

"Harry, what happened?" Hermione asked.

"I went to see Draco. I gave him his wand back," Harry said.

"Where is he?" Hermione asked, looking around.

There were too many people around and Harry's eyes searched everywhere. "I don't know. He must have—"

"That's fine, we'll catch him," someone from the crowd said. He was dressed in Auror robes and Harry wasn't sure if he knew him.

"Catch him?"

"Yes. We're going to catch all the Death Eaters, and bring them to justice!"

"He's not a—"

Harry's words were falling on deaf ears. No one wanted to know what he thought. Everyone was going to do what they always did: praise him but never listen.

"Come on, Harry. Let's go," Hermione said, pulling Harry's arm and taking him away from the crowd.

"Where are we going?" He was relieved that Hermione was rescuing him from the crowd, but he wanted to find Draco. To make sure that Draco wouldn't get lost in the aftermath of the war. He needed to protect him. He _needed_ Draco.

"We'll head to Grimmauld Place. Ron is going with his family. They'll be arranging for the—funerals."

"Oh," Harry said. _Fred. Tonks. Remus_. "Shit." Harry had been so preoccupied with worrying about Draco, he'd forgotten about everyone else—

Harry remained quiet for the rest of the journey. As soon as they'd Apparated to Grimmauld Place, he crashed on the sofa in the sitting room and closed his eyes. Everything was spinning. The room, his memories, his guilt. He didn't know where to begin.

"What happened, Harry?" Hermione asked, pouring him a cup of tea and sitting across the table from him.

"I don't know. I saw Draco on the map and I—"

"You went looking for him. You were gone for a long time, Harry. Then the way you had him by his arm. It was—"

"What?"

"It was as if you were afraid to let him go."

"I was."

"Why?"

"I need him."

"Harry, I don't understand." Hermione sat back on the sofa and crossed her arms. Her look was grim. It was the same one she'd had on her face when she'd found out about how Harry had been trailing Malfoy the year before.

"Hermione, we—we kissed."

"Kissed? Malfoy?" The shock in her voice was hard to miss.

"I think I love him," Harry said. "I think I always have."

"Harry, you can't possibly be serious. You think you love _Malfoy_? After everything he did—his family—"

"I know. But, I think— I don't know." Harry sighed and closed his eyes again. What was he going to do?

"What is it, Harry? Tell me."

"I can't help but wonder if things had been different, if we had become friends. I mean... Don't you think he was forced to do those things? He had no choice. When I found him earlier today, he was waiting..."

"Waiting for what?"

"Waiting to just die, Hermione. He isn't _evil_. And I know that. I can see it."

Hermione nodded with Harry; he reckoned she couldn't really do anything else. "You may think he's not evil and I may—I may agree with you, Harry. But for now, keep this information to yourself. Don't tell Ron. His family—I just don't think they'll understand right now."

"I know." Harry sighed again and sipped his tea. He knew he couldn't go and announce it to the _Prophet_ that he thought he was in love with Draco, but he couldn't just sit idly by either. He had to find a way to get in touch with him. Send him an owl, firecall; do something!

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Weeks passed, and Harry didn't hear anything from Draco. He wrote to him consistently. He had owls flying with his letter three times a day. When he wasn't busy writing to Draco, Harry was busy with funeral arrangements and attendance. So many people had died for him, and Harry needed to make sure he thanked each and everyone's family.

He was always surrounded by people, including his friends, but Harry felt a void. He missed Draco so much, it was crazy. How could he feel so attached to someone that he supposedly hated for a good six to seven years? Now it was like something had switched, and all he did was think about him.

He'd toss and turn in his bed every night, longing for Draco. He even tried to Apparate to Malfoy Manor, but the wards were set and Harry couldn't get close enough. What was worse, was that he was followed _everywhere_. The only place he was alone was Grimmauld Place, otherwise, there were _Prophet _reporters everywhere.

For Draco's privacy, Harry didn't go knocking on the doors at the Manor. What would he have said if they'd asked? It was enough that he'd made it publicly known that Draco and Narcissa Malfoy had helped him and that they shouldn't be treated like criminals.

Maybe Draco would read that in the _Prophet_ and he'd reach out to Harry.

He wondered what he could have said about Lucius, who had been nothing but mean to him since the day they'd met. Harry figured if push came to shove, he'd speak on his behalf too. He waited for the Trials though, because he wanted to see Draco, and he figured that Draco and Narcissa would attend Lucius's Trial, and if they did, then Harry would get a chance to speak to Draco again. Tell him how he felt. Tell him that he wanted them to be together.

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0-*/0-**-0/*-0

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Before Harry knew it, it had been four months since the fall of Voldemort. His birthday had come and gone and he hadn't even noticed. All he'd wished for on his birthday was one word from Draco, and he hadn't heard anything. He knew that the Malfoys were put under house arrest, and no matter how much he pleaded to see them, the Ministry had denied his request.

Harry had exhausted every resource possible trying to get to the Manor, but the security was too strict and he did not know why Kingsley kept saying _No_.

Then, there it was. In bold letters on the front page of the _Prophet_: _Pureblood Breeding: Male Death Eater Forced to Carry Child_. Harry couldn't believe it. How had the _Prophet_ reporter get to Malfoy Manor and he couldn't? He read the article that stated that Draco Malfoy had been sick during the first few weeks of his house arrest and when a Healer was called in, it was declared that he was pregnant!

Pregnant?

_Young Malfoy refuses to disclose the identity of the father, and it is our belief that he could have been forced to breed with another pureblood wizard to continue You-Know-Who's agenda to create more followers_!

Was this why Draco didn't reply to any of Harry's letters? Was he keeping Harry in the dark? Did he plan to terminate the pregnancy? Harry was still stuck on the fact that Draco was pregnant. Was it his? Could it be someone else's? They never talked about the fact if Draco had been with anyone else. He had never once imagined that Draco might have slept with anyone else - in fact, the thought left him cold. So Harry had just assumed that if he was a virgin then Draco must have been too.

Draco knew how to create lube from a plant! Of course Draco wasn't a virgin! Harry was so stupid. Blinded by what he thought was love— Draco didn't want him. He never did. It probably was just an impulse reaction.

Harry crumpled up the paper and threw it in the fire. He felt defeated. He thought of Draco for months, and Draco hadn't even given him a second thought. He was the same selfish wanker that Harry had known him to be.

The reasonable side of Harry tried to tell him that maybe Draco was scared. Maybe Draco wanted to die that day because he knew he was pregnant and didn't want to carry a Death Eater's child.

Harry didn't know what he was more disgusted with. The fact that a Death Eater had taken advantage of Draco or that he was so quick to blame Draco for everything. He remembered how loving it had been to be with Draco, and the idea that some other man had touched him— A sharp pain rose in Harry's heart. Someone else had touched Draco. His Draco.

Harry sank on the sofa in the sitting room, feeling beaten. A moment later, the Floo roared and Hermione came through. The look on her face told Harry that she'd read the _Prophet_ too. He didn't know what to say to her. She quickly reached for him and wrapped her arms around him.

"It'll be okay, Harry," she said, as he sobbed into her embrace. Was it even worth telling her that it could be his? Should he? Would that change anything? He still couldn't go to the Manor, or see Draco.

He'd just wait for the trial date and hope to see Draco then. Offer his help. Even if the child wasn't his, maybe Harry could still help Draco. Offer protection. After everything, Harry still wanted Draco.

Still loved him.

* * *

0-*/0-**-0/*-0

* * *

Another month passed, and the date of the Malfoy family trial reached. Harry was the first one to arrive at the Ministry. Hermione joined him ten minutes later. Ron didn't understand Harry's need to defend the Malfoys, but he accompanied him and Hermione as well.

Harry sat in the audience and watched as the Malfoys entered the courtroom, accompanied by the Ministry provided solicitor. Harry made sure that the man selected to represent the Malfoys was just. He confirmed with Kingsley that it would be a fair trial.

Hermione held his hand and squeezed it lightly for support. He shared a look with Ron who looked uncomfortable with the way Harry was holding Hermione's hand. Harry smiled softly and nodded. The look they exchanged seemed to relieve whatever tension Ron felt and he nodded back with a smile.

The counsel for the Ministry read all accounts of offences the Malfoys were being charged with. The opposing counsel, Malfoys' solicitor, read Harry's testimony aloud which leaned in favour of Draco and Narcissa Malfoy. He turned to look at Harry, who nodded in affirmation. Harry looked at Draco, but Draco's gaze never left the floor.

Harry wished Draco would try to at least appear more confident, the way his parents seemed to be. Harry released an exasperated sigh. He was _frustrated_. Frustrated with the way the trials were going; frustrated with the way Draco _wasn't_ looking at him.

"Mrs Malfoy," the Ministry's counsellor spoke. "Were you aware that your son was sexually involved with Death Eaters under the command of You-Know-Who?"

"No, I am not aware of any such acts," Narcissa Malfoy replied with poise. "I do not believe that my son was—"

"—willingly whoring himself?"

Harry's hands balled up into fists and he slammed the barrier in front of him.

"Objection, Minister. Counsellor is attesting towards his own opinions!" Malfoys' solicitor roared.

"I apologise," the other man said. "Are you aware of any fact that your son was perhaps coerced into performing sexual acts for the Death Eaters and other followers of—"

"No. I'm not aware of such acts."

The man turned towards Lucius Malfoy. "Mr Malfoy, were you?"

Lucius Malfoy shook his head, looking ashamed.

"Are you aware, either of you, Mr and Mrs Malfoy, who the father of your future grandchild is?"

"No," both of Draco's parents spoke simultaneously.

"Draco assures us that it was not a Death Eater or any other follower of _Voldemort_..." The crowd gasped at the name. "...but he isn't willing to share anymore information with us. We are respecting his right to keep things private," Narcissa Malfoy added. "Our son is over eighteen, which is far above the legal age for an adult in the wizarding world."

"Of course, so if he was consorting with a Death Eater, you really wouldn't know."

Harry glared at the Ministry counsellor, then he shot a look at the Malfoys' advocate. The man stood up immediately. "Mr Hackett, why are you set on finding the identity of the father of the Malfoy heir? What does this have to do with the trials for which we are here today?"

The man, Hackett, turned to the Minister and nodded curtly. Then he turned to the audience and spoke. "I want to identify the father because we are here today to prove that the Malfoys were helping You-Know-Who—"

"His name was Voldemort!" Harry roared, standing up from his seat and slammed the wooden block in front of him.

"If Mr Potter can please calm himself," Kingsley said.

Harry glowered at the Minister, then at Hackett. Hermione pulled on his arm and had him sit down. He turned to look at Draco, who caught his eye then quickly looked away.

"As I was saying," Hackett said. "I want to identify the father, because we are here today to find out if the Malfoys were helping _Voldemort_ willingly or not. Anyone can hide behind the curtain of 'my family's safety was in jeopardy'. But, if Draco Malfoy was in fact, _willingly_ involved in a sexual relationship with another Death Eater, to procreate Voldemort's agenda of pureblood breeding, then the case isn't so black and white."

The crowd hummed at Hackett's speech, and Harry scowled as disdainfully as he could.

"We don't know if Draco Malfoy was involved with Voldemort himself. What if he's carrying Voldemort's child?"

"That's ridiculous!" Harry screamed again.

"Mr Potter!" Kingsley snapped.

Harry sat down again and this time when he looked at Draco, Draco seemed both disgusted and scared. Draco looked at Harry, almost as if he was trying to tell him something or pleading—but he peered away too quickly.

Harry sighed and looked at Hermione.

"There's something you're not telling me, isn't there?" Hermione said.

Harry was scared. He wasn't sure if Hermione could see fear in his eyes.

"It's not—" She gasped. "It can't be— Harry?"

"It could be," he said, smiling softly. "It could be."

"Harry you have to do something!"

"I'm trying!"

"Shh!" Ron expressed. "They're staring at you two," he added with a whisper.

Harry and Hermione straightened up and looked at Hackett.

The arguments continued for a while. Every time Hackett made an accusation, the Malfoys' advocate had something to counter it. Even though Harry could see that the man was doing his best to defend the Malfoys and even though it looked like Narcissa Malfoy could get off with impunity, things weren't looking as promising for Draco.

Harry knew he had to do something, before the Wizengamot decided Draco's fate and sent him to Azkaban.

"Who is it, Mr Malfoy? Who is the father?" Hackett was almost screaming, his tone contemptuous beyond any professionalism.

"That's enough Mr Hackett!" Kingsley demanded.

"It's me!" Harry said, screaming and standing up again.

"Mr Pot—"

"I'm the father," Harry bellowed.

"Harry!" Ron hissed. "What are you doing?"

Harry looked at Ron for a moment, then he looked at Draco. Draco was staring at him wide-eyed. He released a small smile before he started looking nervous again. Harry could stare at that uneasiness, that perfect face, forever.

He smiled in return and nodded.

"Draco is protecting me. I— It's me. The father of the Malfoy heir isn't a Death Eater. It's the Saviour of the Wizarding World." Harry was surprised at his tone of authority and his calmness. No matter what happened now, he was in it.

This was as easy as flying.

Draco belonged to him, and now so did the unborn child.

"And when did this happen?" Hackett asked haughtily, and Harry wanted to jump over the barriers and punch the man.

"The day of the Battle. _The end _of the day."

The defence counsel stood up and rushed over to the Minister. "With what it dictates on the Healer's report, Minister, Mr Potter could be stating the truth. The duration of the pregnancy according to the report matches the date indicated by Mr Potter."

"I'm stating the truth," Harry said. "I went to Draco at the end and we—did what we did—" Harry hesitated. He was not only coming out to the entire Ministry of Magic, but to his best friends. He could hear Ron having a meltdown next to him.

"If I'm not mistaken, Mr Potter," Hackett drawled, as if he was looking for an angle to play upon. "The _Prophet_ reported that you had gone missing for about an hour after the demise of—"

"Yes, I went to look for Draco. To return his wand. The wand that _defeated_ Voldemort."

Everyone in the room gasped again.

"Are you sure you're not just saying this because he helped you?"

"No. I'm not saying this _just_ because of that. I love him." Harry heard Ron almost whimper, like he was being tortured. He quickly turned sideways and whispered, "Sorry, Ron."

"But we don't know anything for certain yet, now do we?" Hackett asked. Now Harry _was_ ready to punch the man. "You could just be protecting him because he supposedly saved you—your testimony from before indicates that he refused to identify you in front of other Death Eaters. Perhaps you made a deal with him—"

"No," Harry said, almost amused. "I reckon he did that because he loves me, too."

He turned to look at Draco again, and Draco was smiling. He no longer looked devastated, worried, or disgusted. He looked like the Draco Harry could love forever.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure he loves me, too," Harry said, smiling, and finally jumped onto the main floor and walked over to where the Malfoys were seated. He nodded at Narcissa and Lucius and took Draco's hand.

Draco immediately stood up from his seat and came around to face Harry. Harry finally got a chance to look at Draco up and down. He looked pregnant. _Very _pregnant. Harry was still getting used to the idea of male pregnancy and it was still hard to believe. Even though he was witnessing it with his own eyes.

"Sorry," Draco whispered.

"You've made me rather miserable these past few months, I hope you know that," Harry said. It felt like they were the only two people in the room, even though Harry knew that everyone was watching them.

"I know. Sorry again," Draco said, biting his lower lip.

"It is mine, isn't it?" Harry asked, almost teasing.

Draco laughed. "Yeah. It was the Miermittel. I didn't find out until later that if used for lubrication, the plant enhances fertility rates."

"Not everyone needs to know, Draco," Lucius Malfoy interjected.

"Mr Potter—" Kingsley said at the same time.

Harry laughed and wrapped his arm around Draco. "Minister, now that it has been made public who the father is—and I'm sure when the child is born, I will take all the tests to prove my paternity—do you mind if I take my boyfriend home now?"

"Yes, Mr Potter, I'll allow it," Kingsley said. "The final verdict on Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy will be announced in two days' time. Please return then to hear the Wizengamot's decision. We're adjourned."

"Thanks, Hackett," Harry said, glaring as he and Draco walked past the man.

"Mr Potter. Mr Malfoy," Hackett said, nodding, and Harry couldn't help but feel the man's disappointment.

Harry felt so smug.

"Do you think your parents are going to care, if I take you to Grimmauld Place?"

"Gods," Draco groaned. "I'm so sick of the Manor. I don't even care what they have to say about it. Do you know how horrible house arrest is?"

Harry laughed and wrapped his arm around Draco's waist as they entered the Floo to leave the Ministry.

"What?" Draco asked, confused.

"Yeah, it'll be as easy as flying," Harry said.

"What will be?"

"Loving you."

Draco smiled and bit his lip again. "Whatever, Potter. Just take me home."

"Anything you say, Draco."

* * *

0-*/0-**-0/*-0

* * *

Two days later, Draco and Harry returned to the Ministry to hear the verdict for Draco's parents. Narcissa was acquitted of all charges, and Lucius Malfoy was going to be penalised by being placed under house arrest for a full year, and his magic would be restricted.

In a year's time, the Ministry would reevaluate Lucius's sentence.

Harry couldn't be happier, given how Draco was relieved that neither of his parents would be going to Azkaban.

Now he just had to worry about facing the Weasleys after they'd heard the news of his own parenthood and actually caring for Draco.

He loved Draco and Draco loved him back. Everything else _was_ going to be as easy as flying.

* * *

**THE END**

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Comments are welcomed!**


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